


He’s real, I swear

by isaDanCurtisproduction



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Bad Boy Clint Barton, Friendship, High School, High School Football Games, Humor, Insecure Clint Barton, Kissing beneath the bleachers, M/M, Nerd Phil Coulson, Pizza Dog-Mention, Protective Phil Coulson, Romance, Secret Relationship, Underage Drinking, nosy friends, only not really
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-20
Updated: 2016-10-20
Packaged: 2018-08-23 16:25:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,002
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8334370
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/isaDanCurtisproduction/pseuds/isaDanCurtisproduction
Summary: High School is hard enough, and honestly, finding time to date in high school is pretty difficult too, but you know what makes it even harder? When none of your friends think your boyfriend is real. He's real, guys, I swear.





	

“Clint! Clint, are you paying attention?” 

Clint jerked his head upwards to meet the eyes Steve Rogers, who was sitting across the lunch table from him.

“Huh?” Clint asked intelligently.

Natasha elbowed him in the ribs. “Get a grip. Steve just asked if you were up to burgers at his place after school. You know,” she bared her teeth in an imitation of a smile, “to celebrate Stark getting a third detention this quarter.”

“Oh shut up about it,” Tony snapped and leaned away from his tray of half-finished meatloaf and his untouched carton of milk. 

“You know the rules,” Pepper said from beside him. “Tony, you _made_ the rules. If one of us gets in trouble for stupid reasons we get to make fun of that person.”

“It wasn’t a _stupid reason_ ,” Tony whined, “Killian had it coming. He kept hitting on Maya, which she was _obviously_ not cool with. Thor, back me up here.” 

Thor nodded, “Yes, I agree with Tony. Killian was harassing young Maya. We must protect the shy freshmen.”

“Ok, cool,” Sam said and reached across Steve to grab Tony’s tray which he set down in front of himself. “You know we’re all for stopping bullies, that’s why you call us the Avengers.” He made the name sound silly and juvenile, which Clint supposed it was. But still, it was a nice name for a bunch of high school juniors who liked to one-up and prank bullies in their free-time. 

“But!” Bucky interrupted, “you got caught, by a _teacher_ , because you decided to put up freaking posters all over the school bragging about it.” He grabbed the milk from the tray Sam had just stolen and held it just out of reach as Sam tried to lunge for it.

“Sloppy, sloppy,” Bruce agreed. “And didn’t we agree to plan these things out after Jane accidentally got caught up in the Loki incident.”

“Aye, we did,” Thor agreed. 

“Is Jane coming to burgers?” Steve asked to change the subject.

“Yes,” Pepper said before Thor could answer. “Darcy said she would drag Jane away from her chem set by her hair if she has to.”

Natasha elbowed Clint in the ribs again. “You never answered us, Clinton. Are you coming to burgers or not?”

“Not like I’ve ever seen you turn down free food,” Bucky added.

Clint smiled wide. “Well it looks like there’s a first time for everything.” Nat raised her eyebrows in surprise. “Sorry guys, I already have after-school plans.”

Tony scoffed. “Don’t tell me Old man Carson has you practicing even _more_ with that primitive bit of weaponry you feel the need to tote everywhere.”

“Jesus, Stark,” Bucky said as he crushed the now empty milk carton in his fist, “I’m pretty sure the fact that Clint has a fucking—”

“Bucky!” Steve yelped, “Language!”

“—stage name, an actual job in a _circus_ ,” Bucky continued as if he hadn’t been interrupted, “means that archery is pretty important to him. If he needs to practice let the man practice.”

“But you’re _not_ practicing,” Natasha said slowly, her yes narrowing as she took in Clint’s content expression. “Carson is letting you relax a little since its getting cooler and the circus is done for the season. So spill, Barton, what has you canceling us?”

“Aren’t we best-buds?” Tony simpered. “Why’re you abandoning us? Have you found another clique to hang with? FFA perhaps?”

“Please,” Clint said, “Make more farm jokes. I love it. I really dig the constant reminders that I’m from corn-central, Midwest.”

“C’mon man,” Sam said, “Just tell us what’s got you canceling. You fucking _love_ burgers.”

“Hey!” Bucky said, “Steve! Why d’you let Wilson curse but not me?”

“You’re his bosom buddy,” Sam said with a smirk. “He wants to keep you clean and innocent for as long as possible.”

“No,” Bruce said, flicking a rolled up straw-wrapper at Sam, “It’s because he knows there’s no hope for you.”

Steve didn’t even look at Sam or Bucky as they bickered, he kept his eyes on Clint. “Burgers?” he asked again.

“I’ve got a date,” Clint said with a hint of pride, “So I’m afraid I’ll have to bail on burgers.”

“A date?” Pepper questioned. “Who with? One of the girls from Government? What’s that girl who’s always flirting with you?”

“Bobbi Morse,” Natasha offered. 

“Right, Bobbi. Is it Bobbi?” Pepper asked.

“It’s not Bobbi,” Natasha said.

“It’s not Bobbi?” Bruce asked.

“No,” Clint confirmed. “I _told_ you guys that I’ve been seeing this kid from SHIELD High.”

Tony rolled his eyes. “Right, this guy who you talk about sporadically, who we’ve never seen, and who was never given a name. That guy?”

“ _Yes_ , that guy!” Clint said, brushing off Tony’s nettling with practiced ease.

“Mmm hmm,” Bucky said, “and the reason you never talk about this guy?”

“Don’t harass him,” Pepper scolded, but no one paid her any mind. 

“Because I don’t want you to look him up and stalk him or something.”

“We’d never do that!” Steve exclaimed.

There was a pause, and then Bruce coughed and motioned to Tony with his chin.

“At least tell us this guy’s name,” Sam said, “that way if you go missing we know what to tell the cops.”

Clint rolled his eyes. “Fine, his first name is Phil.”

Tony scrunched his nose in disgust. “Phil? That’s such a bland name. Obviously fake.”

Clint smirked a little as the bell rang to signal it was time to move from third block lunch to fourth period. Clint got to his feet and slipped on his ratty leather jacket. “You just keep telling yourself that, Tony. Say hi to Rhodey in shop. C’mon Nat, you know how Yinsen is if we get to English late.”

“Oh for god’s sake,” Pepper exclaimed. “Clint, you can’t call your teacher by his first name.”

“Yes we can,” Clint and Tony said at the same time.

Natasha got to her feet, grabbed her tray and with her other hand dragged Clint from the cafeteria. She dumped the tray at the garbage can by the door and then they were free. Well, they had ten minutes to get to English, but that was a sort of freedom.

“They don’t believe you,” Natasha said, with the sort of blunt honesty that made Natasha Natasha.

“I know,” Clint said with a sigh. 

“They think you’re making up a boyfriend so you don’t have to spend so much time with us.”

“That’s stupid,” Clint said, “I love you guys.”

“I know,” Natasha said with a smirk, and wound her arm through Clint’s.

“Do you believe me?” Clint asked after a pause, ignoring how small his voice was. “You don’t think I’m lying about a boyfriend, right?”

“Obviously not,” Natasha said without a hint of hesitation and Clint relaxed a little. “Even you don’t have enough imagination to name a fake boyfriend _Phil_.”

Clint shoved into Natasha’s side with a laugh. “Hey! Don’t go dissing my boyfriend’s name. I think Phil is a perfectly awesome name, thank you very much.”

“I wasn’t dissing his name, numbskull, I was dissing your imagination.”

“Oh, well that’s fine then,” Clint said and then burst into laughter, Natasha soon joining in. That’s how they stumbled into English class, clutching at each other and shaking with laughter.

***

“Hey, Cheese!” Nick barked across the empty classroom-turned-storage-room that Student Government had commandeered as their office. Phil looked up from his physics homework.

“Yes?” he asked with his most disapproving expression. He hoped it would keep Nick from asking anything stupid, but he knew that at sixteen, with some baby fat still on his stomach and braces pulling at his teeth, that he didn’t pull off intimidating nearly as much as he wanted. This was proven when Nick merely smirked back at him. “Nick, whatever you’re thinking, you’re wrong.”

“I’m thinking that as my Vice President—”

“Student Body VP isn’t that impressive,” Phil felt the need to point out.

“As my vice president,” Nick continued unperturbed, and from behind Nick, Phil caught Maria smirking at him, “it’s your job to acquire the booty for tonight’s celebration.”

Phil frowned. “Tonight’s celebration?”

Maria crossed her eyes and stuck out her tongue. 

“Shut up, Hill,” Phil said.

Maria shrugged.

“Yes,” Nick continued, “tonight’s celebration. To celebrate Sitwell getting elected historian. Now the gang’s all back together.”

“When was this decided, Fury?” Phil asked. 

“Why do you two insist on calling everyone by their last names?” Jimmy Woo asked as he walked through the door.

“Just now,” Nick answered Phil, ignoring Jimmy as he flopped down at a desk and brought out his phone. 

“It’s to show superiority in Nick’s case,” Phil said, looking at Jimmy and simultaneously tossing an eraser at Nick’s face. Nick let it bounce off his forehead.

Nick smirked. “And Phil does it because his memory for first names is shit.”

“You are such a dick,” Phil said, “I want to join the military when I graduate. I’m practicing.”

“ _And_ you think it’s intimidating,” Melinda May said, speaking up from where she’d been curled up in a corner of the floor sketching blueprints for the architecture elective she complained about but Phil knew she secretly liked. Phil shrugged because she wasn’t wrong.

“I’m thinking we’ve gotten slightly off-topic,” Nick said, his arms crossed. “Phil, are you getting the booze for tonight or not?”

“And why do _I_ always have to get the booze?” Phil asked.

“Because you’re the one whose parents have a fully stocked open bar in their house, numbskull,” Maria said.

“And they don’t even drink,” Jimmy bemoaned. “Why would you keep that much alcohol in your house if you don’t drink?”

Phil shrugged. “Clean living mixed with a little dose of temptation. And I’m so sorry,” Phil grinned, “but tonight you’ll have to find someone else. I can’t provide, I can’t come, I’ve got plans.”

There was a slight pause.

“What do you mean you can’t come?” Jimmy whined.

“What plans?!” Maria snapped. “You never have any plans. You’re the least busy guy I know.”

“You’re coming,” Nick said with confidence. “You’re definitely coming because this is an important get-together.”

“Well then you should have said something earlier. Before I made plans.”

“What. Plans?” Melinda said slowly.

Phil smirked. “I’ve got a date.” There was a significant pause and Phil rolled his eyes. “What? You don’t think I can get a date?”

“Frankly, Cheese? No.” Nick had a curious gleam in his eye, though.

“Awww,” Phil said, “when did you stop loving me, Fury? I thought we had something special.”

“So you _don’t_ have a date?” Jimmy asked, brow furrowed.

Phil rolled his eyes. “I _do_ have a date, thank you very much. A very hot date, with a very nice boy, and I’m going to spend the night staring into his pecs. And maybe his glutes, if I play my cards right.” Phil made an over-exaggerated wink and then returned his expression to something more neutral. 

“And who is this boy?” Melinda asked. “Don’t tell me you finally gave in and asked out that goof in the beanie who moons after you during chess club.”

Phil quirked an eyebrow. “I’ve never seen you in chess club.”

Melinda smirked. “Nor will you.”

“Ooohh, you _are_ good,” Maria praised. “Teach me your ways, oh master.”

“What boy?” Nick asked. “I have to make sure he’s good enough for my man, Phil.”

“Ooohhh!” Jimmy said, “Is it one of the boys on the cheer squad? I bet they’re very flexible.” Jimmy waggled his eyebrows.

I’m not—” Phil sighed, “he doesn’t even go here.”

“Oh?” Maria asked, “Where does he go? Hydra High? Xavier’s school? Midtown? Marvel High?” Phil’s eye ticked the last name, at hearing Clint’s school, but no one noticed. “Or maybe—” Maria gasped dramatically, “maybe he doesn’t _go_ to high school. Is he an older boy? Are you dating someone who’s even more mature than you pretend to be?”

“He’s in high school,” Phil said, “he’s our age, so you don’t have to worry about that.”

“What’s his name?” Nick challenged.

“Barton, and that’s all I’m saying about that. I’m going on a date tonight, I’ve been going on dates with Barton for a while, I will continue to go on dates in the future, so next time,” he looked pointedly at Nick, “give me more than a few hours heads-up for such an _important event_.”

***

“Babe," Clint greeted as Phil pulled open the passenger side door of his rusting old pick-up. Phil slid across the bench and leaned in for a quick peck on the lips before slinging his backpack into the backseat. Clint shifted the idling truck into drive and pulled away from the curb outside the track behind SHIELD High.

"What took you so long?" Phil asked with a smile as he clicked the buckle of his seat belt. "I was almost afraid you got lost."

Clint reached out and swatted at Phil's arm. "I don't get lost," he said sounding mildly affronted, but the corners of his lips quirked up. "No," he said with a sigh, "I was waylaid by well-meaning friends."

"Well-meaning?" Phil asked. "Why do you make it sound so ominous?"

"They kept trying to get me to get burgers with them. It's kind of a tradition? Only we do it at least twice a week and people come and go so it's not really a tradition. And I told them I couldn't come tonight 'cause I was meeting you, but," he shrugged, "I don't think they believed me. Kept trying to convince me to get burgers till I just straight up ran away. And you know me, Phil. If I didn't have plans I'd be all over free burgers! Steve's mom is a goddess in the kitchen."

"What do you mean they didn’t believe you?"

Clint shifted uncomfortably in his seat. "Ah, well, I’m pretty sure they think I made you up.”

Phil blinked.

“Don't get mad, ok, but I don't really talk about you a lot?" he ended the sentence on an upward lilt that made it sound like a question. Clint glanced at Phil out of the corner of his eye, but Phil didn't look bothered.

"May I ask why? I'm not angry, just curious."

Clint shrugged sort of helplessly. "Well, at first it was because I wasn't sure if this was going to last. And it was summer. I mean, how stupid would it look if I mooned over some guy who cornered me after a show for a compliment only for it to turn out he just had a carnie fetish, or was out to kiss something exotic?" Clint was half afraid Phil would take offence, but Phil just chuckled. "And then," Clint continued, gaining steam, "when you kept being amazing I started to worry the universe would pull a Grease Lightning and it would just be some summer fling and I didn't want to go ranting about some cute guy I was dating, not if we were going to, I don't know, split off when school started again."

"And then when school started and I didn't disappear?" Phil bit his lip, “Also, Grease ends happily.”

Clint rolled his eyes. “I know that. When school started I realized how dumb it was to think that you’d dump me or something, and it was stupid of me not to say anything about you, and I didn’t want them to think I was _hiding_ something from them.”

“Which you were.”

“Which I was,” Clint agreed. “So I tried to be casual about it. Dropped hints here and there. Mentioned you in passing, only it sort of backfired, because I think everyone thinks I made you up to avoid them or something."

Phil choked on a laugh.

"I know, you are the most realest, hottest, student government nerd I’ve ever met.”

“Thank you.” Phil let out a long breath. “I suppose I should tell you that my friends didn’t really know you existed either.”

Clint looked at Phil in surprise, and maybe disappointment, and then jerked his eyes back to the road. “Oh.”

Phil reached out a hand and rested it on Clint’s thigh. “It’s not because I’m ashamed of you—”

“I wasn’t thinking that,” Clint disagreed hastily.

“Mmm-hmm. Of course you weren’t.” Phil sighed and when he spoke his voice was small. “It’s not that I was embarrassed by you, Clint, it was just nice keeping you to myself. Watching you at the circus, seeing you all confident and gleaming, I couldn’t take my eyes off you. You were magnificent. And then I went to talk to you and you were _funny_. You signed my poster. You gave me your number, and…” Phil scratched at the back of his head. “Well, you know the rest. I know that you have friends other than me, obviously. You complain about them enough, but when you’re with me you’re _just_ with me. I like that. It’s selfish of me, but I like it, and I was worried that if I went spreading it around that I was seeing the most amazing of guys my friends would harass you and annoy you and then it wouldn’t be just you and me anymore.”

Clint looked confused. “You were afraid your friends wouldn’t like me? Would hassle me? I mean, I kind of get it. You’re a straight-A honor student with actual plans for the future. I’m a carnie freak who raids junk yards to fix up my rust-bucket, pranks bullies, and wears leather jackets.”

“That’s not—” Phil pinched the bridge of his nose. “Did you know you’re kind of an idiot? You’re not a freak. You’re amazing. You fix cars, which is something I couldn’t do if someone paid me to. You stand up for those who can’t stand up for themselves, which is not only amazingly noble and awesome, but also really sexy. And, yes, you wear a leather jacket. I see exactly zero problems with that. Like, that is the opposite of a problem. I _like_ your leather jacket. I like your leather jacket a lot.”

Clint picked at the collar of his jacket, a happy little smile on his face. 

“I was afraid they’d harass you by never leaving you alone, bug you for information on me, make you like them more.”

“That’s kind of really stupid,” Clint said.

“I know.”

“I promise to never like them more,” Clint said. “If I ever end up meeting you’re mysterious friends, that is. They sound sort of horrifying.”

“They kind of are,” Phil admitted, “but they grow on you.”

There was a moment of nothing, a moment of settling back into the happiness of being with each other and then Clint smiled, real wide.

“Pizza?” Clint asked.

Phil let out a bark of laughter. “Of course, pizza. What’s date night with my very awesome boyfriend if we didn’t have pizza?”

“Remind me to pick up a slice for Lucky on our way out.”

“Stop feeding your dog pizza.”

“My dog _likes_ pizza. He’s a pizza dog.”

Phil sighed, but it sounded more like a laugh. “Very well, so what—”

The engine of Clint’s rust bucket spluttered, and with a final cough died. Clint braked slowly as he maneuvered his truck to the side of the road. When they finally stopped Clint pulled his key from the ignition, stuck it back in, and tried turning over the engine. And again. And then again. Still nothing happened.

“No luck?” Phil asked, lips quirked.

Clint shook his head and rubbed his fingers mournfully on the lip of the steering wheel. “Aww, truck, no.”

***

“So how was date-night?” Tony asked with a leer as he slid onto the stool beside Clint.

Clint lifted his head from the microscope with a frown. “What are you doing here?”

Tony shrugged nonchalantly, like he waltzed into Clint’s lower level biology class every day of the week. “What? I can’t visit my good pal Clint and ask him how his date with his totally real and not at all fake _Phil_ went last night?”

“Well,” Clint said, slowly, “no.”

Tony pouted.

“ _And_ ,” Clint continued. “Phil _isn’t_ fake. He’s very real.”

“Well,” Tony said slyly, “seeing as how he’s definitely real, why don’t you tell me how date-night went last night.” 

Clint huffed out a sigh and pushed away the microscope, accepting that he wouldn’t be getting any more work done while Tony was annoying him. He glanced over to see the teacher helping some students at the other side of the room, not that it mattered. Mrs. Ross had a soft spot for Tony, and Bruce as well, since they were always in the lab cooking up science or whatever nefarious things they did in there.

“It went well until Rusty up and died on me. Had to get a tow truck to bring it back to my place. And tow-trucks aren’t cheap, Tony,” Clint whined, “I’d been saving that twenty to buy myself a deluxe hot dog supreme at the game tomorrow.”

“Uh huh,” Tony said, distracted, “right, your…Rusty, I’m assuming you’re talking about that death-trap you insist on riding around in—”

“Don’t insult it like that!” Clint yelped.

“Whatever, it died. So,” Tony drew the word out. “So your date was canceled? Or what?”

Clint raised his eyebrows. “Well no. We just relocated to my place. I can’t make pizza as good as Marco’s, but Phil can make a mean omelet so we had breakfast for dinner.”

“Mmm, hmm,” Tony said like he didn’t quite believe him. “And then what?”

Clint narrowed his eyes. “You don’t believe me.”

Tony have him a wide-eyed look. “Who? Me? Now why wouldn’t I believe you about this?”

Clint shrugged, affecting nonchalance. “I don’t know. But what I _do_ know is that there’s no way I’m telling you what we did next.”

Tony’s brow furled. “Why?”

Clint tossed him a saucy wink. “I’m a nice, respectable boy, Tony. And respectable boys don’t kiss and tell.”

***

“Tell me why I’m here again?” Phil asked as he tried to find a comfortable position on the uncomfortable metal benches.

“Because you bailed Wednesday!” Jasper complained from behind him. Phil turned to frown at him, but Jasper continued. “I was promised a reunion with booze, Phil. Without you it wasn’t a full reunion, and without you there was no booze!”

“I hardly see how that’s my fault,” Phil said.

“It’s your fault for not telling us you had a date,” Maria said, poking Phil in the side.

“Damnit, Cheese,” Nick said, “I’m supposed to be all-knowing. How can I keep up the omniscient-shtick if you go and do shit like that?” 

“It’s not my fault you’re pretending to have spies everywhere,” Phil said.

“No,” Melinda said, leaning forward to look at Phil from around Maria, “but it _is_ your fault for dating a boy and not telling us, your closest friends, every dirty detail.”

“So this is revenge?” Phil asked.

“Yeah,” Jimmy said in a ‘duh!’ tone of voice.

“Forcing me to go to a football game is your big revenge scheme?” Phil asked slowly.

“Oh definitely,” Jasper said. “It gets us all together: reunion. Afterwards we can swing by your place and then trash Nick’s: Booze.”

“But why not just skip to that bit,” Phil asked plaintively. “I hate football. It’s so boring. I have no idea what’s even going on.” He gestured to the field where people in different uniforms were doing different things that meant exactly nothing to him.

Jasper cuffed the back of Phil’s head. “Don’t say that. My little brother’s playing tonight! He just got into the Junior Varsity team, and I’m not missing his first game.”

Phil let out an exaggerated sigh. “Well that’s a relief. I was hoping you all wouldn’t be this cruel without a reason.”

Maria elbowed him in the stomach. “Yeah, yeah, revenge plot is actually just an excuse for Jasper to watch his brother throw egg-shaped balls at other boys. We get it. You’re a master spy. Now spill about your date.”

Phil raised his eyebrows. “Wow. You waited two whole days before asking me anything. I’m actually very proud.”

“Thank you,” Maria said drily.

“It was Melinda’s idea,” Jimmy added helpfully. “Soften you up a little, and then surprise you.”

Phil reached around Maria to flick Melinda’s leg. “Thanks, May.”

Melinda smiled guilelessly. “Any time, Coulson.” 

“Spill!” Jimmy commanded. “I haven’t had time to harass you yet.”

“None of us have,” Nick agreed. “Now don’t you think it’s time you told us more about your boy-toy?”

Phil sighed and decided that it would be better to cast his gaze on the identity-less figures running around on the field below like bugs scattering from a stomping foot, rather than any of his friends. “He’s not a boy-toy.”

“Man-toy,” Jasper said, “whatever.”

Phil pinched the bridge of his nose. “He’s a very nice young man.” And then Phil slumped a little. “Why does talking to you five always make me feel like an old man?”

“Because you _are_ an old man,” Jimmy said consolingly. “But you’re an old man who is secretly dating an unknown guy that you’ve never talked about, and that makes this entire ordeal sound, like, super suspicious, so you’re going to have to start fessing up right now or so help me the five of us _will_ make your life a living hell.”

“Awww,” Phil said with faux-sweetness. “You _do_ care.”

“You’re avoiding the subject,” Maria sing-songed.

“Maybe I am,” Phil admitted, “but you can’t blame me. He’s _my_ boyfriend, not yours.”

“Boyfriend, eh?” Nick asked.

Phil sighed. “Look, guys, you’re all going to get me completely plastered tonight after the game, and you can interrogate me then. Why are you fishing for information _now_?” He gestured around them, to the fellow high-schoolers on the benches beside them, to the players on the field.

“To see what you would do,” Melinda admitted. “There aren’t many secrets in our friend group, and yet you managed to keep one for a while.”

Phil grimaced. “I know. I just liked having him to myself for a little while.”

“If he’s even real,” Jasper said, distracted, his eyes on the field and presumably his brother.

Phil whipped his head around to look at Jasper, and saw Nick and Jimmy giving Jasper strange looks as well.

“What?” Maria asked.

Jasper blinked, and then refocused on what he’d just said. And then his face flushed. He cleared his throat. “Uh, well, um, I just—”

“You think Cheese made up a boyfriend?” Nick asked, mouth in a set line and one eyebrow rising ever higher.

“I mean,” Jasper started, “I don’t, _not_ think that he has a boyfriend, I just think that it’s weird that he hid it for so long and then brought it up suddenly. Wouldn’t a date with this Barton guy have gotten in the way of something else some other time? If you have been dating for a while, why is this the first date that has interfered with an event of ours?”

Phil frowned. “Well, usually I just plan my time with Barton around my time with you guys. I’m usually pretty good at guessing when something’s going to pop up. I just missed this one.”

“Or,” Jasper said, “you made him up to get out of my welcoming committee. Or you’re covering up for something _else_.”

Phil couldn’t help but laugh. Maybe Clint’s friends were more like his own than he’d originally thought. 

“What are _you_ laughing about?” Jimmy asked.

Phil shook his head and tried to stifle his chuckles.

Maria nudged Phil’s shoulder. “What’s so funny, chuckles?”

Phil sighed out his final laugh and then slumped in his seat. “Nothing. Well, something. I just, you think I made up my boyfriend, and yesterday said boyfriend was complaining that _his_ friends thought he made _me_ up.”

Maria frowned heavily. “Why would they think that?”

Phil gave Jasper a pointed look. “I wonder.”

A whistle blew down below and then the sound of more running, bodies hitting bodies. Phil got to his feet.

“And where do you think _you’re_ going?” Maria asked.

“Trying to sneak away?” Jimmy asked with a smirk.

“No,” Phil said, “I’m just bored of watching those boys throw, kick, and run.”

“But you weren’t even watching them,” Jasper pointed out.

“Fine, then I’m bored of having to pretend to watch them while I actually get the 3rd degree from you hooligans.”

“Watch yourself, Cheese,” Nick said, face grim and a twinkle in his eye. “You’re talking to the president.”

“The _Student Body_ President.” Phil said. “And anyway, I’m VP, which means if you get assassinated I get to take your place. Better watch _yourself_ , Nick.”

“Where are you going?” Jimmy asked.

Phil shrugged. “There must be some food stand around here, right? Marvel high can’t actually be foodless.”

“Stop being so dramatic,” Maria said as she got to her feet. “C’mon Jimmy, let’s go get some hot dogs, or pretzels, or something else equally sporty.”

She pushed past Phil, grabbed Jimmy’s hand, and then led the way down the stairs and off the bleachers. Phil rolled his eyes and followed along behind.

“So, Maria,” Jimmy started, apparently deciding to hold off on interrogating Phil any more until they returned, “How’s your English project going? Got anything actually done?”

Maria groaned. “Don’t even get me started. I mean, first of all, why should I have to read such a misogynistic book in the first place, let alone write a two-thousand word paper on its importance in sci-fi? Second of all, who names a book something as vague as ‘ _A Stranger in a…_ ” and they were off. Jimmy and Maria had the same English teacher, and Phil knew from experience that he would not be able to stop their ranting until they’d worn themselves out, so he quietly followed them as they made their way to the back of the bleachers where they assumed the opposing school (why had Jasper pulled him out to an away-game, of all things? At least SHIELD High’s football field was on the school grounds, unlike Marvel High, whose field was miles away) kept their food vendors. 

Phil trudged slowly behind his friends. He couldn’t force himself to keep step with them when the subject matter of their rant was so repetitive. Phil understood that some teachers were awful, no really, he got it, but seeing as how his own English teacher was pretty awesome, and the fact that Jimmy and Maria complained about their teacher non-stop, Phil just wanted a break. And so maybe he dragged his feet a little, wanting to be just a tad farther from the ranting. A little more. Just a bit more.

And then he looked up to realize two things. One, Jimmy and Maria were in line for funnel cakes and lemonade and had yet to realize that Phil wasn’t with them. And two, Clint Barton was leaning against a fence not two feet from where Phil stood, with wide eyes and a full smile.

“Phil?” Clint asked, as he dropped his semi-delinquent pose (his back against the fence, one foot up against the metal, his hands in the pockets of his leather jacket, his expression broody) and rushed over to give Phil a quick peck on the lips.

“What are you doing here?” Phil asked.

Clint gave him a look that showed Phil just how dumb he thought that question was. “Phil, babe, hun, this is my school’s football field, and this is our game. Against _your_ school, babe. Phil, how did you not notice that your school was fighting mine?”

Phil rolled his eyes and threaded his fingers with Clint’s. “Ok, first of all, I was dragged here against my will, so my knowledge of this entire scene is limited. Secondly, I _did_ know that SHIELD was fighting Marvel, I just didn’t know _you’d_ be here. You never talk about sports, I just figured you weren’t a fan.”

“I’m not,” Clint said with a shrug. “I don’t like team events. Not my thing. But you forget that we’ve got the star quarterback, Steve ‘Amazing-is-my-middle-name’ Rogers in my friend group, not to mention Samuel ‘I’m-as-swift-as-a-fucking-falcon,-suck-on-that-Hawkeye’ Wilson, and Bucky ‘I-will-punch-anything-that-even-looks-at-my-Stevie’ Barnes are both on the team as well.”

“So let me guess,” Phil said, “You get dragged to every single game.”

“You got it in one,” Clint confirmed, “so here I am, mid-game, trying to figure out how to escape this hell hole of uniformed high-schoolers beating on each other under the guise of sportsmanship, when mercy comes by way of Pepper Potts and Bruce Banner, both of who skipped dinner. They needed grub, I said I’d accompany them.” Clint pointed to where a pretty red head and a short, curly-haired boy were standing in line for corn dogs.

“Same,” Phil said, pointing to Jimmy and Maria, who were still neck-deep in their rant, “only we all pretty much are indifferent to sports. We just got dragged here because it’s Sitwell’s brother’s first time playing and he wanted to show support and also torture all of his friends.”

“Sitwell?” Clint asked with a grin.

“Last name,” Phil explained. “I like to talk to them like they’re my subordinates.” He paused. “Because they are.”

Clint guffawed, which had been Phil’s intention.

“So,” Clint said after catching his breath, “Sitwell, you said? You mean that little scrub in the number 14 jersey?”

Phil shrugged, because he had absolutely no idea.

“He’s not doing so hot,” Clint explained. “Well I mean, no one is doing so good. No offense against your school, Phil, but SHIELD’s football team just isn’t on par with Marvel’s.”

“No offense taken,” Phil said. “I don’t care a whit about sports. It means nothing to me.

Phil glanced at where Maria and Jimmy should be, realized that they’d left him after getting their food, and sighed.

“What’s up, Honey-butt?” Clint asked.

Phil gave a little moue of disgust at the nickname but answered. “My friends, the ones who came with me, have abandoned me. Probably forgot I was with them, honestly.”

Clint looked up himself, swiveled his head back and forth, and then made an interested noise in the back of his throat. “Huh, me too.”

Phil was impressed. “Really? Do all our friends suck?”

Clint shook his head. “Nah, the two of them were just really deep into discussing Tony. And by discussing, I mean complaining about. Obviously.”

“And Maria and Jimmy were complaining about their awful English teacher.”

“And I guess we got left in the dust,” Clint said with a shrug.

“Huh,” Phil agreed.

There was a pause, and then Clint spoke again. “Hey, since your friends didn’t notice your existence, and _my_ friends didn’t notice _my_ existence, and probably won’t for a while, and since we’re both here right now at this football game and we both hate football, do you want to maybe go do something else?”

Phil raised his eyebrows, and the corners of his lips curled upward. “Oh yeah? What did you have in mind?”

Clint shrugged. “I don’t know. Wanna make out or something?”

Phil let out a huff of laughter. “Sure. I think I’d kind of love that.”

And so Clint took Phil’s hand in his and began leading him back into a less populated back area. Maybe Phil would get to be a Teen Disney, made-for-TV-movie heroine after all and would get to make out with his boyfriend beneath the bleachers. Who knew?

***

Natasha followed Thor as he led the group, the Avengers, down to the area outside the changing rooms after the game finished. Marvel had won, a resounding victory that had Pepper giddy, Thor boisterous, and even Tony mildly spring-footed. Tony tried to hide it, but Natasha could see the little gleam of school pride overshadowing his distaste for team sports.

They had plans to go to Tony’s parent’s place, a mansion by all rights, and celebrate, but they had to wait for Steve, Sam, and Bucky to emerge from the changing room first, and honestly Natasha didn’t mind. She liked being in this group, loud as they were. They were like a family, and Natasha could appreciate that.

They didn’t have to wait long before Steve stepped out of the door, a duffel bag thrown over his shoulder and Sam and Bucky at his heels like guards, or very possibly, pets. Loyal pets. Dogs.

Natasha took a sip from the off-brand cola she’d bought as the game was wrapping up. It was huge, and the straw sticking out of it looked tiny in comparison. Natasha thought she must look very silly drinking from it, like a kitten trying to lap water from a too big bowl. She did not mind appearing small and innocent. It was as good a cover as any.

“Ready to go?” Tony asked, his eyes glued to his phone, but obviously talking to the football players.

“Sure,” Steve said with a nod, “let’s just go get Clint and then head to your place.”

Tony’s head snapped up. “Clint?”

“Yeah,” Bucky said, making a show of looking left and right, “where did the birdman go?”

“First of all,” Sam said, “ _I’m_ the only birdman who matters. Second, Bucky’s right, where’s Clint?” 

Pepper and Bruce looked around them as well, and Thor lifted up his feet to look under them, as if he had maybe stepped on Clint and hadn’t noticed.

“Where _is_ Clint?” Pepper asked.

“He was right here!” Tony said with confidence.

“Was he?” Bruce asked. “Now that I think about it, I can’t remember when we last saw him.”

“How can you guys lose someone as chatty as Clint?” Sam asked, brows furrowed.

“We didn’t lose him!” Tony disagreed.

“Oh yeah?” Bucky asked, “Well then where is he?”

Tony shrugged as if it wasn’t his concern. 

“We must find him!” Thor declared.

“But when did he wander away in the first place?” Bruce asked.

Natasha felt that perhaps it would behoove the lot of them if she spoke up since she was the only observant person there. “Well,” she said in a slow drawl that had everyone’s eyes flicking to her, “it’s not so much that he wandered away, but that he went with you and Pepper to get snacks, and never returned.” She returned to sipping at her too small straw in her too large cup.

Pepper blinked. “What?”

Tony whirled on his girlfriend. “ _You_ lost birdbrain? What did you do, insult his archery?”

Pepper shook her head, “I’d never do that, Tony! I guess, well, I don’t know.”

Bruce looked like he was concentrating very hard on something. “I know we left with him, and then me and Pepper got caught up in chatting.” He shrugged in embarrassment, “I guess we were so busy talking we didn’t realize he wasn’t with us.”

“So he wandered away and no one noticed?” Steve asked. 

Pepper shrugged and Bruce nodded solemnly.

With a sigh that Natasha could appreciate the melodrama of, Steve said, “Well I guess we better find him.”

“Yeah,” Tony said, “it’s not like we can leave him here. When he finds out he’ll just get all pissed and refuse to help us plan how to humiliate those Hydra kids who keep picking on our freshies.” 

Steve led the way this time, and still Natasha followed behind, large cup clasped awkwardly in both of her hands, sipping at off-brand, now watered-down cola. She traveled behind the group as they ducked into the now empty vendor-tents, loped across the now dark playing field, even strolled through the grassy parking lot, calling Clint’s name. Natasha figured that if Clint were in real trouble he would have texted her, and likewise felt that if her group of idiots were too stupid to consider calling Clint on his cell phone, well, she wasn’t going to help them out.

In fact, Natasha was quite content to sip at her drink and follow along, back through the parking lot and into the vendor area again, watching her friends make fools of themselves, until she caught sight of five students, about their age, who looked to be doing the same sort of thing. While Steve once more ducked behind the funnel cake stand and Thor crawled beneath the lemonade truck, Natasha sidled up to the only reasonable looking one of the other group, a Chinese girl with shoulder-length hair and a stern expression.

“Are you looking for a lost puppy too?” Natasha asked in a chipper voice that she had been told sounded more welcoming than her usual strangling of the English language. 

The Chinese girl gave Natasha an assessing look. In a long suffering tone, she said, “Boys,” as if that both explained everything and nothing.

Natasha nodded, understanding completely, and let her overly bright smile morph into something more genuine. “Natasha,” Natasha said by way of introduction, and stuck out her hand.

The other girl took it. “Melinda. Nice to meet someone else who has any common sense around here.”

They returned to silently watching their friends. Tony was walking the edge of the fence, no doubt looking for a clue to see if Clint had perhaps hopped it in a fit of delinquency, and didn’t notice the tall black kid wearing the imposing trench coat (another unnecessarily melodramatic addition that Natasha couldn’t help but approve of) until they’d bumped shoulders.

“Hey, watch it,” Tony said, brushing invisible dirt from his shoulder.

“Likewise,” the other boy said, in a deeper voice than Natasha was expecting.

“Tony Stark,” Natasha explained beneath her breath to her new friend.

Melinda nodded. “Nick Fury.” The student body president for SHIELD High School? Interesting. Natasha nodded as well.

“What are you stomping around here for anyway?” Tony demanded.

“Tony,” Pepper reprimanded in a low voice, but Tony did not heed her.

“I might ask you the same thing,” Fury said with a glower.

“We’re looking for someone,” a small dark haired boy said.

“Jimmy Woo,” Melinda said, and then shrugged in apology. She did not expect Natasha to know Woo. Woo did not have the popularity or presence of Nick Fury, but that did not mean that Natasha did not recognized the SHIELD High School Student government secretary when she heard the name. Natasha did her research, thank you very much. 

“Same,” Bucky called from where he stood by Steve. Steve was curled over, looking at the ground like he would find Clint’s footprints and track the errant boy from those alone. Bucky was standing beside Steve, watching him like he knew Steve was a dumb shit, but loved him anyway.

“Is this a popular sport in this country?” Thor asked, “Hiding from one’s friends?”

Melinda looked at Natasha questioningly. 

“He’s Scandinavian,” Natasha explained. “His slang and knowledge are getting there, but not quite up to par.”

Melinda hmmphed. 

“No,” Sam explained. “This isn’t normal at all. Clint’s just a dumbass.”

“No need to be so harsh,” Bruce said. “I’m sure Clint has a very good explanation—”

“Hey!” Woo interrupted, “Phil!”

He was pointing off towards the back of the bleachers, where the home team changing rooms were.

“I don’t see anybody,” Tony said in his snootiest voice.

“I just saw Phil,” Jimmy said again, and started moving towards the changing room as he spoke, not worried if anyone would follow him, which they all did. “He was being dragged away by some delinquent!”

“A delinquent?” Pepper asked, sounding half worried.

“Wait,” Steve said, “did you say you’re friend’s name was Phil?”

“Yeah!” Jimmy puffed out. “Some leather-jacket-wearing buff guy just dragged Phil into the changing room.”

“Do you think Phil’s in trouble?” asked the male SHIELD student that Natasha had yet to be introduced to, but who, if Natasha’s knowledge was accurate, must be the new Student Government historian, Jasper Sitwell. If the rest of this group was Student body government, it stood to reason that all of them were, in which case Jasper Sitwell was the boy with them, Maria Hill, SHIELD Student Body treasurer, was the girl, and Phil Coulson, Student Body VP was the boy they were looking for.

“No,” Hill said a little sharply, “I’m sure Phil was just kidnapped by some hooligan of his own accord. Of course he’s in trouble.”

Woo put on a little speed and burst through the door before anyone else caught up.

“But,” Steve said again, a little desperately, “your friend’s name is Phil, right?” Melinda nodded at him, a curious expression on his face. Steve sighed out in frustration. “Well then he probably _did_ want to be dragged in there. Because I’m pretty sure the only leather-jacket-wearing buff guy who should be here right now is Clint.”

***

“Are you sure this is ok?” Phil asked and Clint pulled him from behind the bleachers on the far side of the field, and along a path towards the Home team changing rooms.

“It’s fine,” Clint said. “I’m friends with, like, half the football team. Well, at least three of them, but they’re the most popular of the team, so really it’s the same thing.”

“And they said you could use the changing rooms whenever you wanted?” Phil asked.

“Well,” Clint said, “no. Not really. But sometimes if Tony’s old man isn’t away on business like he usually is, and we have nowhere else to go after a big game, Steve, and Sam, and Bucky will sneak us into the changing rooms to drink our weight in cheap wine coolers and Corona. Except Nat. She always brings her own Vodka and refuses to drink anything else or share. And by her own, I mean that I’m pretty sure she makes it herself. Like, she might be just sixteen, but I’m almost positive she has a distillery set up in her walk-in closet. That’s the only reason I can think of that she never lets me in there whenever I hang at her place.”

Phil chuckled. “I’m sure I can think of more reasons than that, but I’ll let it slide for now. And as for the changing rooms, I’m still not sure we should go in there. Just because you hang out with some of the football team in there doesn’t mean we should go in without them.”

Clint huffed and rolled his eyes, and continued dragging Phil forward by their interlaced hands. 

“Besides,” Phil said, “I’m sure they’ve locked up by now.”

Clint scoffed. “Like locks mean anything to me.”

The thought of Clint picking locks should not turn Phil on as much as it did, Phil decided. And then completely ignored that decision and said aloud, “Oh god yes.” 

Clint threw a cheeky grin over his shoulder. At the door Clint dropped to his knees, drew a bobby pin from his pocket, and in the space of time it took for Phil to glance around like the paranoid honor-roll student he was, Clint had the lock picked.

“C’mon,” Clint groaned, grabbing hold of the collar of Phil’s shirt and dragging him forward into the room.

“Well you’re impatient,” Phil said with a huff of laughter as Clint pulled and pushed him until his back was against a wall.

“Yes I am,” Clint said. “I am a very impatient man with a very hot boyfriend, and we’re all alone in this room by ourselves. I’m almost ashamed you would expect anything else from me.”

“You’re right,” Phil sighed with faux exasperation, “I—”

But then Phil caught sight of a figure darting into the room and jumping onto Clint’s back.

“Get off him! You leave my friend alone!” The figure shouted, and Clint, because he was not wont to let a stranger strangle him from behind, surged backwards, flipped the assailant over his head and onto the ground, and raised his fist to pummel the poor creature into the ground.

Which was, incidentally, when Phil registered the voice as familiar. 

“Jimmy?” Phil asked.

Clint paused, his fist pulled back, ready to rush forward at the drop of a hat and bloody poor Jimmy’s nose. “You know this nut?” Clint asked in bewilderment.

“Phil,” Jimmy sighed. He unsteadily got to his feet as Clint backed away. “We’re here to rescue you.”

Phil quirked an eyebrow. “Rescue me?”

Clint crossed his hands over his chest and put on his best glower. “Yeah? You and what army?”

“Don’t ask that,” Phil said, and watched as first Melinda, then Maria and Jasper, and finally Nick stalked into the room.

“That’s not really an army,” Clint pointed out.

“You’re not really helping your case,” Nick said sternly. “Now what were you going to do with our boy, here?”

“Yeah, Clint,” a feminine voice said from the doorway. Natasha stepped through, followed swiftly by the other Avengers, and Pepper, until it seemed Clint’s entire friend group was there. Natasha smirked. “What were you going to do with your boy there?”

“Well,” Clint said, scratching at the back of his head, his brooding persona safely folded away, and his face slightly flushed, “we were gonna, um—”

Phil rolled his eyes. Hard. “You see,” he said in his driest voice, “when a mommy and a daddy love each other very much—”

Clint winced.

“I think you mean two daddies,” Tony interrupted, seemingly bored with everything.

“Oh god,” Clint said, “please, never call us daddy ever again.”

Tony shrugged, as if to say that he wasn’t making any promises.

“What are you guys doing here anyway?” Clint asked.

“Well,” Steve said, “you were missing. It’s not like we’d just leave you here to your own devices. You should have let us know if your plans changed. If you were going to be with, Mr—” Steve let the words hang there for a moment before Clint realized what he was being asked.

“Oh! Uh, sorry, guys, this is my boyfriend, Phil.” Phil gave a little wave backed by a bland look. “Phil, these are my friends. That’s Steve, Bucky, and Sam. They’re the football players. Bruce and Thor, over there. Tony and Pepper, and of course Natasha.”

“The one with the distillery,” Phil clarified.

“The one with the distillery,” Clint agreed.

“Pleasure to meet you all,” Phil said. “I’ve heard good things about all of you.”

Natasha smirked. “You consider me owning a distillery a good thing? I like you.”

“Well I haven’t heard much of anything about you,” Tony said.

Phil and Clint exchanged fond glances. “I know,” Phil said. Fury cleared his throat and Phil straightened up. “What bad manners I have,” Phil said, “guys, let me introduce you to my boyfriend, Clint. Clint, this Nick Fury, Melinda May, Maria Hill, and Jasper Sitwell. You remember Jimmy? You almost punched him two minutes ago.”

“I remember,” Clint said and then stuck his hand out. Jimmy met it with little enthusiasm. “Good man, Jimmy. I like people who stand up for Phil.”

Phil nodded unconcerned. “Guys? This is Clint. He is my boyfriend. Whom I am dating. Right now.”

Fury put his hands on his hips, pushing away his trench coat so it would fall dramatically at his sides. “Motherfucker, text me if you’re going to elope so I don’t send out search parties,” he said with a put-upon expression on his face.

“I can’t believe Phil is real,” Tony muttered darkly.

Across the room from him Jasper gave an embarrassed little shuffle, but at least didn’t vocalize that he had the same thought patterns as Tony Stark.

“Wait,” Maria said, “I thought you said his name was Barton?”

Clint gave a kind little wave. “Sup, my name’s Clint Barton. Nice to meet you all.”

Jimmy rolled his eyes. “Phil, you call your boyfriend by his last name?”

Phil shrugged. “I like ordering him around.”

Bucky piped up at that, and said, with a smirk, “Says the guy who was being hauled around by _him_ a few minutes ago.”

Phil raised an imperious eyebrow. “And who says I didn’t tell him to do that?”

Tony sputtered, Bruce shuffled a little, and Thor laughed uproariously, as if that was the funniest thing he’d heard in days.

Clint nudged Phil’s shoulder. “Fuck, Phil. Can you not antagonize this group _too_ much? They are literal trash, but they are my trash.”

“Awww,” Natasha said, “you’re my garbage too, Clint.”

“Sorry babe,” Phil said with a small smile and gave Clint a peck on the lips.

“Ew!” Maria squealed. “Don’t kiss in front of me! I didn’t need to know that unflappable Coulson could even _have_ emotions.”

Phil flipped her the bird. 

“Anyway,” Tony said, bored now that the drama was over, “we have a party to get to, so wrap it up, boys.”

“Aww, but Dad!” Clint pouted. “What if I want to bring my boyfriend?”

Tony winced dramatically. “Don’t call me dad.”

“Now you know how we feel,” Clint said. “But seriously, may I bring my hot boyfriend?”

Tony rolled his eyes. “Whatever! It’s not like it’s _my_ house or anything.”

“It _is_ your house, Tony,” Pepper said, exasperated.

“No, it’s my parents’ house. Do whatever the fuck you want.”

“Cool,” Clint said, then turned to Phil. “Hey Phil, want to come to a party at Tony’s house? And by party I mean just us, sitting around, trying to play Cards Against Humanity while steadily getting drunker.”

Phil glanced back at his friends, “I’d love to, but I kind of already have plans with these idiots, so—”

“Tony!” Clint shouted.

Tony heaved a sigh. “Yes! Fine! Your boyfriend’s posse can come along. It’s not like we don’t have enough of the hard stuff. It _is_ my Dad’s place after all.”

“Awesome,” Clint said, turning to the group of SHIELD students. “You’re all invited to get completely wasted at Tony’s place.”

Melinda and Nick exchanged glances and then shrugged. 

“Why not?” Nick said. “I’m always down for free booze.”

“Woo-fucking-hoo!” Tony shouted, “Now get in the fucking cars. I was supposed to be drunk an hour ago.”

Clint grabbed Phil’s hand and they trudged along behind the group of friends, shoulder to shoulder, leaning into each other for warmth.


End file.
